Daydream Rehearsal
by kim-onka
Summary: AU Take a girl's dreams of romantic love, confront them with a random stranger who happens to be a witdrawn recluse, add a couple of helpful friends and a kitten for variety's sake and watch the tale unravel. Can life ever be like a novel? Kanda/Lenalee DISCONTINUED (I am sorry.)
1. Introduction & First sight

_kim-onka disclaims D. Gray-man; author's note at the end; enjoy:_

* * *

><p>Lenalee Lee did not, generally speaking, believe in love at first sight.<p>

Actually, she was having hard time believing in love not only at first, but also second, third and any subsequent sight – or at least as long as she herself was concerned; it seemed that no matter how many times she looked at the guys around her, nothing would ever click. Sweet enchantments and bitter infatuations alike steered clear of her way, as if deciding her incapable of deeper affection.

Still, this did not mean she lacked a sense of romanticism.

The longer her heart refused to find someone it would hold dear, the more intensely Lenalee indulged herself in dreams of love befalling her in a momentary glance at that special person's features, love enveloping in magic whispers and blooming in red roses, love binding eyes, hands and hearts – that reluctant heart of hers – together with an unbreakable chain woven from hurried heartbeats and unspoken promises. She would dream of midnight walks among woods bathed in moonlight and chocolate-flavoured caresses, all the time fully aware that she was telling herself a fairy tale – impossible, unrealizable story constructed like a puzzle of countless pieces stolen from novels, movies and songs with additions of her own reveries.

Lenalee wished she could believe in this tale, and sometimes she almost managed; yet the voice of reason would always rear its head, reminding her of the disappointments awaiting dreamers lost in their dreams.

Even so, believing or not, dream she did continue.

But in that sunny afternoon in early fall which later would turn out to have disproved some of her wishes and proved many more, Lenalee was not thinking about any of them. Maybe it was the place, maybe it was the situation; maybe it was that her thoughts were sufficiently occupied with the reality; maybe it was a display of perversity on the side of that which comes when unasked for.

Whichever it would be, the girl meandering through a maze of alleys patterning the large area of the quiet, peaceful cemetery had her thoughts smoothly running backwards, from the present into memories, back when the high trees appeared much higher and the painful loss felt much more crushing.

When Lenalee reached the point of her destination, she took out two stained-glass candles, lit them with a matchstick and carefully placed on a black marble grave, next to a low flower-pot hosting a bunch of vividly green branches. Then she stood and managed a small, sad smile.

"Mom, Dad," the girl whispered, "I'm back."

She pressed her hands to the heart and prayed for a while before taking her time to simply contemplate the tombstone, lost in remembrances; finally, she smiled weakly once again and walked away, back into the snaking alleys which had brought her there and now were supposed to guide her outside.

Every time she went there, Lenalee reflected anew on how serenely beautiful the place was with its tall trees guarding the place of eternal rest from the uproars of the outside world, its leaves – currently in royal gold and red – whispering consolations and lullabies, its bushes leaning over graves in a protective manner, its atmosphere of detachment from day-to-day life; it felt like a forest cut out from a legend.

It had been raining in the morning, as a result of which Lenalee could observe rays of sunlight skidding on lustre puddles as if in search of someone to blind with their brightness. And following them from one puddle to another, Lenalee's eyes indeed found someone.

The someone in question was apparently trying to find his way in the labyrinth of alleys, for he was looking around with a confused frown on his face. In his hands he had a pot with a beautiful flower of white petals which contrasted sharply with his tight, black coat. There was something unusual to the way he was handling the object, Lenalee noted as the stranger headed in the direction he had decided was right; it was held in the overly careful way one would hold something they needed to deliver safely, but at the same time wanted as little contact with it as possible.

With an expression that matched the young man's from moments ago she turned to observe him as he walked through the pathways and even stepped forward to take a closer look when he approached a grave and placed his charge on its tombstone. The spot was directly to the left from where she was standing, by the same alley, which ensured her a clear view of the stranger's actions.

Which were pretty simple. He just stood there, motionless, while the warm wind kept playing with his high ponytail, straight fringe and long side-bangs. His posture and face told Lenalee he couldn't be much older than she was; his face…

The girl blinked. What was she doing? She shouldn't be peering at a stranger like that, especially in a situation as intimate as a visit to a grave. Lenalee knew for sure she wouldn't want to be watched like this. What if she cried? What if _he_, by some chance, happened to cry? She had no right to see his tears, same way as he or anyone else had no right to see hers. Quickly, she dropped her gaze to the flower he had brought. It was not of a species she could recognise – Lenalee was no expert anyway – but it really was beautiful. Suddenly she wondered who it had been who was being offered such an exceptional gift; and then she noticed that the grave had no name on it, only a date.

Perplexed, she almost automatically cast another glance on the man's face.

Heat flooded her cheeks when she found him staring back, straight at her.

"Ah," was all she could let out at first. He glared still.

Lenalee swallowed her embarrassment and took a couple of steps in his direction. No hiding and spying on him behind his back only to retreat without a word.

"I'm sorry," she said, unable to think of anything else. He said nothing. "It's a very beautiful flower," she added, unsure whether it was to be an excuse or an attempt to engage him in a conversation.

The black-haired male shrugged her remark off, sparing an indifferent look at the object mentioned.

"It must be someone very important to you lying here," Lenalee blurted. She didn't expect him to actually tell her who it was, but it seemed like an innocuous thing to say.

She had to admit she was at a loss with this 'conversation'. Was it possible he didn't understand her? He did look Asian (much more than Lenalee, in any case); maybe he was a foreigner… But he did react to her mentioning the flower…

"No."

The girl was startled. The voice that reached her ears was quiet and bore a strange tone; still at last she heard something from him.

"…Excuse me?" she inquired uncertainly.

He turned to her, impatience evident on his features.

"There isn't anyone lying here."

"W-what do you mean?"

"Just that," the young man snapped. "There isn't anyone lying in this grave."

He must have noticed the surprise and curiosity appear on Lenalee's face, for he glared at her irritably, let out a sound resembling 'che' and started to walk away without another word.

The girl's initial impulse was to call after him, but she bit her tongue just in time. It didn't look like he was willing to answer any questions or even talk to her, who had already invaded his personal space, and she couldn't really blame him. Yet even so, she watched his journey among sun-skidded puddles and under guardian trees adorned for the arrival of autumn until he disappeared from sight, and she felt a twinge of regret at the thought of letting him leave like that, before she could as much as learn his name.

Lenalee wondered if she would ever see the dark-haired stranger again.

* * *

><p>This is a story I started to write long ago… but right now I decided I want to post it and see what happens. So I'm waiting to see what happens. Thank you.<p>

Chapter 2 will introduce a new character as Lenalee's friend, mention an auxiliary couple and feature a change of POV.


	2. Afterthoughts & Flatmate

Yu Kanda was angry. Not that he wasn't irritated most of the time anyway, but at that moment he was particularly fed up with himself, with his professor, with the season, with flowers, with memories, with buses, with sentiments, with traffic, and with a certain young girl.

Why the hell had he ever gone to the cemetery?

He had been brutally forced, no less. The instant Professor Tiedoll had heard where Kanda was moving, he had fallen into his sympathetic-consolatory-fatherly mode, produced a few tears and proceeded to drag his fervidly protesting student to a florist shop, made him pick a flower and solemnly swear he would tend to it and grow it, so that it would be a 'worthy offering' for an 'important person', a true 'gift of heart' and so on. Kanda had had no choice but to obey. Grinding his teeth, he had eventually promised to pay a visit to the grave and even bring the specially selected flower with him. However pointless it seemed to him.

"To think," Tiedoll had sniffed loudly, "that you haven't been there since…"

"There was no point going there!" Kanda had argued, "and there still is none!"

But he had known he had been arguing in vain.

So he had ended up going, with that damn plant blooming like a symbol of all the irony in his life. The 'grave' was no better than he remembered it, but its mere sight had proved enough to cause his thoughts to race backwards to the time when he had first seen it, and what had preceded it.

Kanda didn't like it at all.

And then, there had been that girl, gaping openly at him like at an unusual phenomenon of some sort.

Why had he told her the grave was empty? It was definitely not that he cared what she would think of him after he had denied having visited an 'important person'.

And exactly why the hell had he denied that in the first place? It didn't matter. He should've agreed and let her go away.

But no. Instead, he just _had_ to evoke her curiosity and in the end leave himself before she would question him more.

Only that as he sat in the bus, stuck in the hellish traffic jam, the meeting on the graveyard kept playing itself over and over in Kanda's head. The girl's eyes riveted on him; her flushed face in the frame of black hair when he had caught her staring; her apology and careful inquiry; the satisfaction reflected on her face when he had finally responded.

He growled inwardly. He'd left the girl on that cemetery and headed home, she must've done the same, they were not likely to meet again, so the entire encounter was meaningless, period. At least there was one plus of the situation – now he could be fairly sure he hadn't confused the flowers.

Unless –

_No. Way._

"No freakin' way," Kanda muttered, striding out of the bus.

Honestly, pondering on it was useless. The best thing he could do was go back to his flat and eat.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Lenalee rushed into the house, through the hall and into the kitchen, where she found Miranda bent over the cooker or more precisely over a pot placed on the cooker, from which tempting aromas were infusing the whole place. Leaning over her friend's shoulder, she took in the bouquet of olfactory wonders.

"You're back," Miranda remarked, moving to make space for the newly arrived girl.

"Back and starving," came the response.

"Then you have perfect timing."

"I'm just so lucky to have you here," Lenalee smiled, upon which her slightly older friend blushed and hurried to serve the meal.

"Lavi was here," Miranda mentioned after a while. "Told me to tell you he said 'hi'."

"Lavi was here? Then why didn't you make him stay for dinner?" the straight-haired girl asked, never stopping the process of devouring the contents of her plate. She had long known her friend made an excellent cook, and almost every day this conviction would harden.

"He just dropped by, said he was busy."

"Poor him, but this way there's more for us."

Miranda chuckled. "But you don't get to see him! Wouldn't you rather share to meet your friend?"

"If the food in question was prepared by you, I don't know if I'd be ready for such a sacrifice," Lenalee retorted.

"Egoist! Maybe I shouldn't cook for you anymore then!"

Now it was the younger girl's time to chuckle.

"Oh come on, Miranda, I'm sure you two didn't miss me."

"You happen to be right, but that's beside the point." The girl in curls grinned, "Lavi _does_ want to meet you from time to time too, you know."

"Of course he does. Otherwise, you wouldn't have met him at all." Lenalee smirked at the memory. Lavi, her two-years-older childhood friend, was the only person who had taken the effort to stay in touch with her when she had moved out after her parents' death. They had been paying each other regular visits, and during one of them the girl had acquainted him with her classmate and best friend, Miranda. Despite the distance separating them geographically the two had soon begun dating to Lenalee's genuine joy and satisfaction – if she couldn't find love herself, at least she made a good matchmaker.

And now she had returned to her hometown for studies, and Miranda had come with her; they were living together in the younger girl's first home.

"I know, Lenalee, I know."

The modest author of the dinner rose to her feet to collect the dishes, as both girls had finished eating.

"I don't think so," Lenalee interrupted the activity, stealing a plate right from under her friend's nose. "_I_'ll do it, and then some coffee."

Miranda obediently returned to her previous position and watched her host bustle about the kitchen. They had divided chores between themselves evenly, but she ended up doing most of the cooking simply because she liked it. Definitely liked it better than Lenalee did. It was okay with her, but the other girl felt uneasy about it and insisted on making it up to her by taking over parts of the cleaning.

"Lenalee?"

"Yup?"

"Has anything happened?"

Lenalee arrived at the table with two steaming mugs of hot coffee and eyed her friend questioningly.

"How do you mean?"

"I mean…" Miranda begun uncertainly, "well, it's most likely merely my imagination… I mean it's probably nothing really…"

"Just say it."

"Well, you seem… maybe not happy, but… excited?" The older girl shrugged. "Usually, after a visit to the grave, you'd be very quiet. Today, you aren't."

Lenalee sat down slowly and riveted her eyes at the surface of her fragrant beverage, considering her friend's words. Now that Miranda had mentioned it, she realised she indeed _was_ unusually agitated, even more unusually if she took into consideration where she had come back from. It felt as if… as if there was something Lenalee was looking forward to, but at the same time was nervous about it, something promised to happen but so unsure, a mystery dear but unsettling… The girl frowned. Where had that originated from? Positively, there wasn't a single rational reason to that.

Was it about the stranger she'd met?

Impossible. She, Lenalee Lee, didn't react this way. Let alone to a meeting so brief and accidental. Why, she hadn't even managed to talk to him, not really.

Still… Remembering his face made her heart flutter just a little bit.

She wanted to see him again.

"Lenalee?"

The younger girl blinked. _Has anything happened?_ Not truly. If anything had happened, it had been too elusively subtle to be grasped and put into words. On the other hand, Lenalee sensed declaring out loud that nothing had happened at all would feel like cutting herself off that experience, shutting whatever doors might have opened only a crack.

She didn't want that.

"Hey, Lenalee? Is something wrong?"

"N-no! All is fine." The straight-haired girl smiled apologetically. "About that… I'm not sure if anything has happened."

"You're not sure?" Miranda raised her eyebrows, taking a sip of coffee.

"N-no. But when I know, I'll tell you," she promised.

"Ah. So it's about a guy, isn't it," her friend teased. "All right, all right, don't tell me," she added hurriedly, seeing Lenalee blush. "Keep your sweet little secret. But I expect to be invited to your wedding."

"What!.. It's not -" The younger girl started to protest, blushing darker, but was interrupted by Miranda's finger on her lips.

"Hush, hush," the curly-haired girl stopped her, "drink your coffee. It's delicious."

Lenalee obeyed, briefly reflecting that although Lavi's influence on her friend was, on the whole, very positive, at times it showed in unexpected and disconcerting ways.

* * *

><p>Tomorrow I won't have the time to update, I'll be preparing my friends for a test. And possibly myself, too. So, today.<p>

Chapter 3 will feature one more candidate for a helpful friend and the last detail promised in the summary.


	3. Welcoming gift & Examination

The entry phone rang while Kanda was eating. Thus, he decided to ignore it.

Whoever it was that wanted to see him didn't give up easily, though. After maltreating the phone for five minutes, the guest retreated eventually, but only for about a quarter. That gave the inhabitant of the flat time to finish his meal, wash the dishes and place a handbook next to a mug of green tea. When he seated himself comfortably, the entry phone rang again.

For a split of a second Kanda found himself thinking about the girl he had met the previous week and half-expecting that this perhaps could be her. This thought irritated him, even more as he realised he wished it wasn't her; well, that would settle the whole matter once and for all, perhaps… only why the hell should she be-

Another ring interrupted his thought process.

Cursing under his breath, Kanda picked it up.

"Who's this?" he demanded.

"Bak Chan," came the reply. "Will you let me in now, Kanda?"

Rolling his eyes at the idiocies from moments ago, the student answered curtly.

"Fine." He pressed the button and waited for Bak to reach the front door of his locum.

"Oh wow," the blonde man looked around, "I see you're already well-settled here!"

"Che." Kanda shrugged. True, last time Bak had been there, there had been cardboard boxes and general mess everywhere, but since then the newly-moved student had tidied everything up. Still, that wasn't anything to get all amazed about. "What are you doing here?"

"So cold, Kanda!" the guest grinned. "I've got some new medicine for you, and I need to examine you a little, but more importantly…" he presented a box he'd brought with himself, "…I have a welcoming gift for you! I know it's a bit late, but it's only today I could get it. Here," Bak handed the box over to Kanda, who glared suspiciously first at his visitor, and then at the object.

Inside the box, something was moving. And emitting quiet sounds.

"Open," Bak encouraged.

Kanda put the carton on the table and lifted its lid.

"What the -"

"Isn't it cute?" the blonde inquired.

"I'm not keeping it," the younger man declared, closing the box and turning. "Can we get to the important part of your visit?"

"Why wouldn't you keep it?"

Kanda shrugged again. Bak opened the box himself and withdrew a tiny, furry ball, which he then proceeded to situate on Kanda's chest, to which it clung desperately with its short but nonetheless sharp pointy claws as he moved away _just_ not in time.

"H-hey!" Quickly, almost instinctively he caught the animal in his hands and pulled away from his shirt, in the process removing a strand of black hair which had attached itself to its paw. Holding the creature in the air, he studied it doubtfully.

"Say, isn't it lovely?" Obtaining no response, the guest continued, "You're living alone. Why wouldn't you at least keep a kitten as company?"

The pet in question was currently enduring a skeptical glare, and it was also evidently uncomfortable in its mid-air position. A small 'meow' could be heard.

"I don't need it," Kanda snapped.

"What if it needs you?"

"Why would it?" _And why would I care?_

"Why not? This little one has nowhere else to go."

The meowing was getting increasingly shrill.

"They say a home without a cat is a flat."

"A flat is fine by me."

"Kanda! You're keeping it or I'm not giving you the meds."

"As if you could do that," the younger man retorted, "it's your job to deliver them." He gathered the cat to a more agreeable arrangement, annoyed by the sounds it was letting out. But even Kanda couldn't help but notice how the creature's fur was soft and warm against his hands.

"Whatever," he sighed irritably.

Bak's face lit up immediately.

"You'll actually keep it? That's great!" He sounded so nauseatingly happy and self-satisfied that all Kanda wanted was for the subject to drop.

He dropped the cat, which ran away to the adjacent room to, as he would discover later, hide under Kanda's bed.

"Great," the black-haired man grunted, "now what is it that you have for me?"

He had had too much of his time wasted already.

"Let's sit down, shall we? I'll take your pulse and temperature… show me your eyes, too… okay… now please remove your shirt…"

"How is it?" Kanda asked indifferently, buttoning his shirt, when Bak had finished the auscultation and was putting the stethoscope back into his bag.

"No change." The other man sighed. "Your hands are still cold, too."

"Che." Honestly, weren't there worse problems?

"Have _you_ observed any changes?"

"Nope." But his thoughts traveled to the girl he'd seen. _Shit, she's not –_

"Good. Now, this you're supposed to take…"

Kanda listened somewhat absent-mindedly to the instructions considering how to use the medicine and how and why it was supposed to help him, his gaze hovering somewhere about the window, where bright sunrays passing through the thick glass exposed dainty particles of dust whirling in their suspension.

"…and somewhere next month we'd like to collect some of your blood."

"Whatever."

"By the way, did you go to the cemetery?"

Kanda nodded impatiently.

_Not again_, he reprimanded himself. He didn't care, right? _Meaningless._ He shouldn't have been to that place, now there was some stubborn crap refusing to leave his mind.

"I think I'll be going now," Bak announced. For a moment he seemed to be waiting for Kanda to protest, invite him for tea or something of the kind, but the host remained silent. "Kanda?"

"What?" The latter answered impatiently.

"Would you like me to show you around the town sometime? You're new here, after all."

"I'll live."

The younger man's brisk reply discouraged Bak, but only a little bit. He smiled friendlily.

"I'm sure you will, but if you'd like it after all, be sure to tell me. Take good care of the kitty," he added. "Goodbye, Kanda."

"Bye," muttered the other man, closing the door behind his guest.

He cursed aloud upon discovering his tea had cooled down completely, but when he sat down with the handbook, it was with a sigh of relief.

* * *

><p>I like cats and I'm not ashamed to admit it! That's what Kanda needs. Apart from... other things. But a kitty always helps.<p>

Chapter 4 will feature some more wishful thinking in unwelcoming weather conditions, interrupted by the awaited occurrence.

I hope it's not illegal to say that yet: **Merry Christmas, everybody~! :)**


	4. In the Rain & Thinking of the Devil

The world outside the window was gray with an evening rain under heavy masses of gray clouds occupying the sky, leaving no clearance for a single ray of the setting sun to pass freely onto the dump ground; and Lenalee was in for a dilemma.

An excursion to a supermarket was in dire need of being undertaken; or more precisely it was the current state of the two girls' a tiny little bit neglected household that had produced the need. In itself, it didn't present a problem. The problem was how to approach the outside conditions.

Lenalee squinted her eyes and pressed her nose against the glass in an attempt to assess the true intensity of the rain. If it were slightly lighter than it looked – which was still possible – she could opt for her jacket; she would get wet, but to an extent she considered ignorable, if not enjoyable. Then again, if it were slightly harder than it looked, her jeans would stick to her legs in the way she hated, not to mention she'd arrive at the shop dripping with water.

The curtains of falling droplets seemed to get thicker every minute she spent watching them. That left her with one possibility – an umbrella.

Lenalee's umbrella had broken the previous week. Miranda's umbrella had never really worked in the windy conditions of the town.

"Maybe you can go tomorrow morning after all?" The brown-eyed girl suggested, breaking her friend out of her contemplation of the weather. "We'll need to buy a proper umbrella," she added, as if reading Lenalee's thoughts.

"I think there should be one somewhere here," the straight-haired girl replied with the uncertain authority of someone who had used to live in that very house and occasionally managed to recall things that should be somewhere around, but sometimes failed to.

Indeed, after a brief search Lenalee was able to produce a huge, black umbrella which had probably belonged to her father; in any case, it looked like a solid protection against not only trivial rain, but a downpour of frogs all the same. Laughing, she pirouetted with the find swung across her shoulder.

"I'd better go now when I can still see the way," she decided, pulling on her jacket and grabbing the purse. "Later."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A lone pace along the quickly darkening streets marked with lone spots of street lamps, with humming streams of water hanging from the edges of the umbrella in the vain of crystalline tassels, unavoidably led Lenalee into her dreamy mode. The umbrella whose handle she was clutching onto had been, without a mistake, designed as a man's umbrella; didn't it follow naturally to imagine a man chivalrously holding it over her to protect her from getting wet? Wouldn't it be romantic to walk under it together with her special person, closely, side by side to ensure they would both be sheltered, maybe even with her arm under his? Or better yet, to be offered cover from the rain by a gentleman stranger, who would walk her home and humbly ask if they could meet again…

…ideally, _that_ stranger.

Lenalee furled her umbrella upon entering the store. She remembered a novel in which something like this happened. The stranger the heroine met, who also resembled her ideal of man in every detail, began to court her and even proposed, but she realised she didn't love him. Soon after that she understood she was in love with her childhood friend, who had already confessed his feelings for her and had been rejected at that time; still, in the end they got engaged. That other guy ended up marrying someone else and grew fat.

_There you go_, a thought of self-derision passed the girl's mind. _Regardless of all strangers with or without umbrellas, I'm not getting engaged to Lavi._

Unlike many other girls she knew, Lenalee had never devised her ideal of a man. Those other girls had kept picturing their perfect boy with nearly frightening precision, enlisting his hair colour and style, eye colour, skin tone, height, shape of nose, weight, figure, future profession, hobby, favourite music, favourite food, and so on; and then they happily contented themselves with dating fairly normal guys, often having precious little in common with the one of their dreams. Lenalee, on the other hand, had always regarded such detailed visualizations as pointless; she believed once she fell in love, she would see her beloved as the ideal, and no presuppositions as to his appearance or tastes were necessary.

As a result, her sweet muses of romantic love had developed into a rich collection of dreamy words, phrases, places, situations and scenes, but still managed to remain on a level of abstraction at which the role of her significant other was vacant.

That is to say, until recently.

Lenalee frowned. The accidental addressee of her frown happened to be a pack of peach-flavoured tea.

Shouldn't she be worried about how a person who did nothing but snap three utterances in her direction had found his way into her dreams?

Maybe she shouldn't. Maybe she should count the long-haired stranger among other mystery-scented imaginings and leave it be. What harm would it make? It wasn't like she was taking any of this seriously. Life wasn't a novel.

In a novel… Lenalee smiled to herself, standing at the end of a queue. In a novel, first of all, he would've told her about the nameless grave, most likely confining a sad secret from his life; that would immediately create a bond between them. She, of course, would've told about her parents too. They would've talked for a long time, forgetting the world around them, maybe gone for a walk. A promise would've been made to meet again, and that would mark a beginning of something special.

Or otherwise, it occurred to her, they would've talked for a while only – but still _would_ have talked, while what had actually happened could hardly pass as a talk – and later it would turn out they were going to study together, which would grant their relationship the opportunity to grow and blossom even without particular endeavours on their side…

This could still happen.

Only that it wouldn't, the girl reprimanded herself, because life wasn't a novel.

Maybe she should aid her luck. Theoretically, there were ways. Not sounding particularly reliable, but available. She'd heard of people posting ads in local newspapers or calling the radio when you could dedicate songs to find someone. She'd just have to write something along the lines of "The tall handsome boy with long dark hair whom I stared at at the cemetery, I'd like to meet you." She did think of it, on very hypothetical level, but she did.

And her conclusion was that this would seem pretty ridiculous. Firstly, the chances of him actually reading or hearing it would be microscopic. Secondly, it was likely he wouldn't like to meet her anyway. And thirdly, Lenalee, for all it was worth, found it insufficiently romantic. It had to be either chance, or his initiative.

But it wouldn't be, because life wasn't a novel.

Lenalee smiled at the saleslady and then allowed herself a little sigh, first making sure it couldn't be interpreted as directed at anyone in particular. Walking out of the store, she spread the umbrella above her head; she turned left.

And halted mid-step, which caused someone bump into her from behind; but she paid no mind.

It couldn't be him. Things like that didn't happen in real life.

The girl's eyes took in the person standing farther on the pavement.

Black coat with white laces; long black hair shimmering in the light of a streetlamp with fine droplets; fringe glued to the forehead; ponytail, heavy with rainwater, falling on the back; a shopping bag in one gloved hand and a long, thin object in a cover in another; and an expression of deep irritation painted on his face.

It _was_ him.

Her first reaction was disbelief and a feeling of unreality – no wonder, given that she had just practically classified him as a part of her imaginings, in a way depriving him – in her mind – of physical existence.

And still, without a doubt, it was him.

Someone jostled Lenalee's arm and apologized on the run.

Thoughts were racing through her mind; the girl kept trying to catch them, put them into some order and sort out just what she should do.

He didn't see her, his side turned to where she stood and his eyes riveted on a shop-window in front of him. But he could turn one way or another any moment, which induced a delicate feeling of panic in Lenalee.

He could simply walk away. Or he could catch her staring again. Or he could enter the shop, and then when he came out, the result would be the same anyways.

Chances were high he would do whatever he would do quite soon, so she had to decide quickly; being accused of spying on him was not an idea she was fond of. What could _she_ do?

Someone knocked into her. Before the very middle of the exit of a store was not the best place in the world to consider strategies concerning strangers met at cemeteries. But there was little choice as for location at the moment.

On thing she knew she couldn't do: walk past him as if she didn't recognise him.

That option out, she could escape and return home through a different route, or else she could approach him.

Approach him and say what?

Approaching people was never a strong side of Lenalee's, let alone people she didn't know. Yet she wanted to talk to him, which in itself was a bit strange, so…

Suddenly, Lenalee's mind registered an obvious fact and associated it with another obvious fact, presenting her with a plausible and viable solution of her little problem.

Mustering up all her courage and confidence, she proceeded forwards, thus unblocking the path in and out the supermarket, much to the relief of all extrinsic customers.

* * *

><p>Here is chapter 4 for you all, because I need inspiration – if that makes sense. Note: any bookanything reference is real unless otherwise stated.

Chapter 5 will feature a short list of annoying things and an only slightly awkward conversation.


	5. Second encounter & Exchange

The unpredictable weather in that stupid town was immensely annoying.

The way in which tiny rivulets tickled Kanda's skin on their way down his head and behind his collar was annoying. The chills passing his spine and limbs every once in a while were annoying. The fringe adhered to his forehead and in one spot disturbing the free movement of his eyelid was annoying.

Long strands of hair sticking to his temples and cheeks were annoying, so he tucked them behind his ears.

Having to do that was annoying.

The canopy spread above the shop on whose shop-window he was pondering did have a contribution – although nearly negligible - to making it all slightly more agreeable, but on the other hand, he wouldn't be stopping there at all if it hadn't been for another annoying condition.

Namely, if a certain person hadn't decided that the best manner of welcoming him in the town was burdening him, without any warning, with an unwanted charge which may have been soft and fluffy to touch, but had several undeniable drawbacks, among them requiring food provision, provoking flat cleaning more frequently that it would normally be necessary, and demanding attention through alternately attacking Kanda with claws and fangs or attempting to make him trip over itself.

Which was not to say they hadn't had better moments. If they hadn't, the monster in miniature would have long been out, regardless of Bak Chan's possible reactions. Fortunately, the kitten knew well enough to rub itself against Kanda's legs (when he was standing), hands (when he was sitting) and face (when he was lying), emitting a quiet, peaceful purr.

Although Kanda wouldn't admit it, that was allegedly the prime reason why he had come to tolerate the presence of the animal. Indirectly, that was also the only reason why he was currently standing outside a pet shop he had accidentally come across and which had a canopy, trying to remember from whatever knowledge he possessed about a cat's needs whether he maybe needed anything there.

As goes without saying, it was annoying.

Of course he could come in and take a look, in a warmer and drier atmosphere to that, only that it would mean annoying salesladies asking him what he wanted, which he found annoying. Kanda hated entering shops for the sake of looking alone – he always knew what he needed. But now, this damn cat –

"Hello," a voice said next to him. It was quiet and uncertain, and vaguely familiar.

Kanda ignored it. Most likely it wasn't directed at him. And if it were, most likely that meant he shouldn't react all the more.

"Um… Hello?" A bit louder, a bit more uncertain, a bit nearer.

All right, it was to him. He frowned irritably at the disturbance and at the spark of curiosity to talk to whoever was greeting him; he cursed mentally and turned abruptly to where the voice had come from.

_Oh crap._

_Her_. The girl he had met at the cemetery.

Kanda felt his frown smoothen into an expression of surprise, which in turn irritated him anew. Damn it, he had _expected _to see her again. Only he wasn't expecting it right now. And he hadn't _wanted_ to see her, because it would mean – but it didn't necessarily mean it now – then again if he hadn't ever saw her again, what difference would it make if she was – so perhaps there was a part of him that _had_ wanted to see her, but why the hell would he –

_Cut it._

He swept his eyes over the figure standing a couple of steps before him. Her one hand was outstretched, as if halted in the middle of reaching for his arm; the other was clutching the handle of a huge black umbrella resting against her shoulder, and a shopping bag. The girl's cheeks were coloured faint pink and her smile, however kind, betrayed nervousness.

Kanda raised an eyebrow.

The girl's nervousness increased visibly.

"Um. I don't know if you remember me, we met -"

"I remember," he interrupted her.

"Ah. That's great." The girl was silent for a moment, apparently trying to think of something to say. Then something occurred to her, and an expression of embarrassment crept onto her features. "Hey, are you… are you still mad at me? I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to -"

"It's fine," he cut in once again. Listening to apologies was not what Kanda enjoyed; and why would he ever be bothered anyways, either by her weird urges to gape at him or her lack of bad intentions.

He observed relief take over her the embarrassment on her face.

He caught himself enjoying observing her.

He frowned.

"Ah. Because, you see, I was just coming back from my parents' grave and just accidentally saw you passing by -" The dark-haired female stranger went on excusing herself, evidently glad he didn't mind but none the less wanting the matter to be clear.

"Whatever," Kanda interrupted her for the third time, wondering what it was she wanted from him again.

"Um." She looked at the shop in front of them and back at him. "Do you need anything in here?" She inquired.

Good question.

"I was considering it," he replied truthfully.

"And what's your conclusion?"

"That I'll come back some other time," Kanda quickly decided. With that girl popping up on him he was in no mood for further shopping. The little beast would have to bear with it.

"Ah. So where are you going now?"

"Home," he said shortly, but still waited for her to speak before he turned to put his word into action.

"Um. And which direction would that be?" The girl asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Why?" Kanda's eyebrow traveled upwards once more, with his interlocutor's reaction the same as the previous time.

"Well," she started. "I -" she continued and stopped. "I have an umbrella," she pointed out at last, and carried on hurriedly, "so maybe we could – um – walk together wherever you are walking, because I see you don't have an umbrella and you're all wet and you must be cold, so I thought, um, that we could -" she realised she was beginning to repeat herself and blushed. "But you'd have to carry it, as I'm too small to hold the umbrella over us both -"

"I'm going to the bus stop, actually," Kanda informed her, mildly surprised at the offer.

"Over there?" The girl indicated the direction with a wave of the hand.

"Yeah."

"That's just on my way home too," she smiled.

"Fine then," Kanda agreed in an indifferent voice and reached to take the umbrella from her. "Thanks," he remembered to mutter, lifting the object over their heads and beginning to walk.

The girl hurried to his side, her flushed face alight with a wide smile. Why she should smile that widely was a mystery to Kanda, who regarded her features wordlessly.

"Don't mention it."

He said nothing.

"My name is Lenalee Lee," the girl introduced herself, and on second thoughts added, "please call me Lenalee."

"I'm Kanda," he returned.

Lenalee Lee cast him a slightly astonished glance and let a while pass in silence, apparently expecting him to add something. He didn't.

"Nice to meet you," Lenalee finally said, from which Kanda concluded she wasn't going to pester him about the name. Well, good for her, in any case. He nodded in response.

"Do you have a pet?" She asked conversationally.

"Mhm. A week ago I was given a kitten."

"A kitten? That's lovely! Little kitties are just too adorable, aren't they? What's its name?" The stream of words flowed into Kanda's ears and into his brain, where the process of breaking the bright utterance into comprehensible words began.

"I call it _neko_."

"Neko?"

"A cat," he explained patiently. Too patiently to feel it was normal.

"Ah! I see. How big is it?"

Kanda attempted to demonstrate with the use of both hands the size of the cat without dropping any of the stuff he was holding and without hitting himself or Lenalee with it either. He succeeded, and his companion squealed in delight.

"It must be cute," she observed with much certainty, and Kanda began to wish for a change of subject.

"I never really wanted a pet," he commented with slight irritation. "That idiot surprised me, saying it was my welcoming gift and that I had to keep it, so it just happened I did."

"Welcoming gift?" The girl picked up eagerly.

"Mhm. I've recently moved in."

"So you're new here? You don't know the town well?"

"Not really," Kanda had to admit.

"Then maybe I can show you around?" Lenalee suggested readily. "It'd be my pleasure," she blurted, then briefly looked away, which did little to hide the blush colouring her cheeks, but soon looked back at him, expectantly.

"I was born here," she added after a while. "I lived here for a couple of years, then for a couple of years I lived in another place, and now I'm back here. I visited a lot, so I remember it all right. But I think I should move around more, to make myself feel at home here again. We could go together," she finished somewhat quieter.

Kanda considered.

He'd had a similar offer from Bak Chan and rejected it without a moment's hesitation. To begin with, a person like Kanda hardly recognised the need of being showed around at all. Once he'd learnt all the locations basic for everyday existence, the rest lay rather outside the scope of his interest. Plus he would be reluctant to accept the company of Bak Chan on a basis more regular than he was already forced to – this annoying idiot as a guide was an appalling idea.

But this was different. Kanda understood well enough that the proposition was merely an excuse. The girl whom he had already met twice, both times accidentally with the addition of some initiative on her part, was asking him whether he would like to meet her again.

Very well, but why would he ever like that? He glanced at Lenalee, who had ceased to watch him in anticipation and stared ahead into the rain instead, so that Kanda was granted a clear view of her profile. There was, undeniably, something curious about the girl, something unidentifiable in how her presence (and her talking) wasn't annoying, but in fact maybe even enjoyable; there was something pestering in how she wouldn't leave his mind ever since he had first seen her; and now he could be nearly completely certain she wasn't –

"All right," said Kanda curtly, stopping at the bus stop.

Lenalee stopped too and looked up at him, kind gladness reflected in her eyes which – as he suddenly realised without any actual context or reason – bore a shade of deep, dark violet. She smiled.

"I'm happy to hear that," she informed Kanda unnecessarily. "Um, will you give me your phone number? We'll need some form of communication," she added in way of, again unnecessary, explanation. "It'd be troublesome to wait until we see each other accidentally again."

As a result Kanda ended up, somehow pretty much like the last time, sitting in a bus which proceeded with arguably reasonable velocity towards the areas where he lived, richer with another scene to play over and over in his mind and additionally a telephone number of his newest acquaintance. And what was really strange was that he didn't see it as another bother, although according to his life experience new acquaintances and preoccupying events tended to be strongly bothersome.

He sighed.

Never mind the weirdness, never mind the meetings, never mind those inexplicable reactions.

His current priority was to get damn dry at last.

* * *

><p>I should… study… and write, actually. I suppose I'm doomed. Again.<p>

Chapter 6 will feature some general however excited over-thinking and a nightmare.


	6. Stream of satisfaction & Nightmare

The first meeting had been accidental. The second meeting had been accidental. The third meeting was supposed to break the pattern, but it was also bound to fail miserably in this aspect.

Meanwhile, Lenalee returned home, buzzing with overflowing excitement. She flashed a wide beam at Miranda, stuffed the groceries into their place and sat down on her own bed to seriously reconsider her views on how life could in no circumstances resemble a romantic novel.

Lenalee felt, for one, unbelievably lucky. She had had her dream literally come true almost immediately after it had appeared in her mind. She had been granted the wish of walking through the rain with her mysterious stranger holding an umbrella over her – in these circumstances the fact that the umbrella had in fact been hers was entirely negligible. More still, she had managed to talk to him, she had managed to suggest they meet again, and he had agreed! Even though a while had passed in silence when she had been sure he would reject the offer. And yet, he had agreed.

What did trouble her a little bit was the vague feeling that she must have given off the impression of being a total idiot. She had been blushing practically all the time and grinning stupidly from the cheerful satisfaction of having her wish fulfilled. She had been asking moronic questions and dragging the subject of his kitten. But then her newly found luck had intervened again and provided her with the perfect excuse to do what she had wanted to do all along – ask him to meet again. To get to know each other, become friends.

And he had agreed! Lenalee had his number! She could meet her mysterious stranger again…

No. Stop. He was not a "mysterious stranger" anymore.

He was Kanda.

This still puzzled her. She had gone ahead and introduced herself with her name and surname, but for some reason he hadn't. Maybe he didn't want to give his surname to a stranger? Maybe – Lenalee's wild imagination zealously rushed in – he had a surname she would recognise, and he didn't want her to associate him with that surname? Or maybe it was the other way round – what he had given her was neither his name nor surname, but some nickname she was supposed to be familiar with?

Lenalee shook her head, stopping herself once again. This was pointless. And this was another of her worries.

She honestly had to get rid of this habit. If she was going to meet Kanda regularly, as a friend, or whatever, she definitely couldn't allow her mind to conjure up eccentric theories or – worse even – romantic schemes centering about his person. Nothing but trouble could come out of that.

Then again, even if it should, the small talk they had had and the exchange of phone numbers marking the beginning of an actual acquaintance could in no way alter all that time between their two meetings when she had engaged the memory of the young man with long dark hair into her dreams. What was more, Lenalee couldn't deny that the current situation was different to anything she had experienced so far – never in her life had she longed so much for someone's company before actually having a chance to get to know them. The opposite was usually the case – she enjoyed the company of people she had come to like. And suddenly she had found herself pondering on what kind of person her stranger was, and how she would like to get to know him – _him_ of all the strangers she met every day, and all new acquaintances she was making…

And the curious, novel sensations she had been getting when talking to him…

Could this possibly mean…

But Lenalee dared not put this thought into words. Definitely not so soon, if ever.

"Lenalee," said Miranda, peering through the door, "you've been walking back and forth across your room for twenty minutes now, do you know?"

The younger girl came to a halt, looked up at her friend and grinned nervously.

"I don't mean you have to stop," the latter added hurriedly, "I just dropped in to ask if you'd maybe like to go shopping tomorrow."

Lenalee blinked.

"Why," she said, "yes, I'd like it."

"Could you come and pick me up after my classes, then?"

"Sure," said Lenalee distractedly. "Tomorrow. Pick you up. Go shopping. Got it."

"Are you all right?" inquired Miranda after a while spent watching the other girl staring hazily at the upper corner of the room.

"What? Ah. I'm all right, yeah, I'm perfectly fine." Lenalee smiled vaguely.

"Well then, you can keep on walking, I'll see you later."

"See you," the violet-eyed girl answered, still in that absent tone of voice. Her thoughts were already drifting back and trying to find their interrupted course. She'd been thinking about –

_Kanda_.

The girl lay on her back, crossed her arms under her head and let her mind wander again, without much surprise but with a speck of perplexity realising there was only one person it wanted to wander around.

That night Lenalee slept a sweet, deep sleep, lulled by her quiet elation.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

That night Kanda woke up from a nightmare, broken out of his slumber by a familiar scream reverberating in his head.

There had been those _ill-lit corridors forming a labyrinth between aseptically quiet rooms painted gloomy grey or, rarely, blinding, surgical white; corridors and rooms misted with the dusty dusk of a place never reached by sunlight or moonlight, with the air stale and dry, and he walks, walks along with someone dressed in a grayish-white gown who holds his arm firmly, walks because he doesn't bother to do otherwise, walks and walks until there seems to be no beginning and no end to it –_

_- and then he's curling up on a thin, hard bed, and there's that voice emerging from the darkness of the room, the blindness of light-sensitive, aching eyes and the humming in sound-sensitive, aching ears._

"_Hey."_

_He twitches, because the voice hurts, and wishes the voice would go away, but it doesn't._

"_Hey, are you Yu? I heard that's what you're called. Hey, can you hear me?" The voice, speaking in those damn other words he needs if he wants to be listened to, is actually merely a whisper, but still it pierces his brain like a vaccination needle._

"_Go away," he whimpers, and the effort explodes in his skull; he moans helplessly and pulls the covers closer around himself in a futile attempt to isolate his sharpened senses from the environment tighter than he already has. But soon enough he freezes again, as, of course, his own moans and whimpers and movements generate new outbursts of pain in his organism. Then he just wishes it all ended, and the voice speaks again._

"_Are you okay?"_

_He doesn't say that he's not okay, he isn't sure what that exactly means and if he's ever been that, and can't the invader tell, and will the world just shut up and leave him alone, and he doesn't tell the voice that because this would require the painful struggle with those other words, and with his throat, and it would really hurt –_

"_You know," says the voice, "I'll just see you another time. Goodnight, Yu."_

_He doesn't answer and the voice is gone, all too loud albeit carefully silent footsteps slowly fading away, and he very cautiously curls up into an even tighter ball, and the voice is gone –_

_Everything spins under his clutched eyelids, he feels he's falling and suddenly he's running, tripping along the ill-lit corridors whose aseptic silence is disrupted by his ragged breath and desperate tapping of his feet on the grayish, dusty floor, and above all the scream tearing the surgically dry air like a very sharp knife, with the words of the other words hardly distinguishable every once in a while, and he's running, running through the dusty maze which appears to extend itself before him into infinity of tangled aisles as he's running towards the scream, his legs seem to be moving in place, yet he's running, running because he has to reach the voice which is screaming before it is gone, and among the other words he can just make out the name, he trips up and falls, falls –_

"Damn!" he spat, abruptly sitting up on the bed. "Not… damn… again!" he panted, massaging his sweat-beaded and dully aching temples. He swept the fringes away from his moist forehead and pressed his fingers against it, unmoving for a couple of minutes.

The scream gradually died away in the depths of Kanda's mind, leaving place for the silence of night suspended in the room.

The man moved to stagger out of bed when his foot caught onto something unexpected which additionally chose to react, climbing further up his leg. His eyes darted in that direction in brief panic he would later reproach himself for; it was useless getting all nervous merely because of a dream.

"It's just you," muttered Kanda, lifting a handful of cat from his limb.

At the very least it looked it was just that little monster, and Kanda decided against pondering on alternatives. Instead he went to the bathroom, meanwhile situating the tiny beast on his shoulder, where it supported itself with the use of claws and presented rather surprising consequence in staying there while the man washed his face, returned to the room and proceeded to sit on the floor and lean against the wall in a nonchalant manner. He was in no mood for further sleep just now, despite the small hour.

Moon peeked through the drop-decorated window, casting patterns of quivering dark leaves against silvery background, and it was just possible they fluctuated just a bit more than it was actually achievable for them, but it didn't matter. These were details Kanda wouldn't be bothered about.

He'd have to call that idiot later, the man concluded; he was no use if he just kept bringing stuff and asking questions and not actually helping any. Later. Now he'd simply stay like that, with the neko leaning its furry form against his cheek; and there surely were better things to think about.

* * *

><p>Nothing like a cat when you're feeling down, take it from me.<p>

Chapter 6 will feature a thoughtful observation and an eventual relief, both concluded with a short conversation.


	7. Contemplation & Appointment

"Just a moment," said Miranda, "I'll be right back, so just wait here, will you?"

Lenalee nodded in agreement, trying to make herself comfortable on the chair. The cafeteria at her university, she reflected, offered seats which were rather more agreeable.

She looked around briefly, taking in the place. It wasn't particularly fascinating, but there was really nothing to do. Then again, she felt a bit out of place there, alone and without food to excuse her being there, so, on second thoughts, her gaze traveled around the cafeteria rather superficially -

A frown wrinkled Lenalee's features. For a moment she'd thought she'd seen –

Ah.

Disbelief swept over her, urging her to squint her eyes in the direction where they'd spotted familiar features. Subsequently, her lips broke in a smile of wonder at and – unmistakably – simple joy of seeing the man sitting several tables from her, all by himself.

Kanda.

Lenalee's first reaction, naturally after having got over the surprise, was to rush to her feet and in the man's direction, which she indeed did without a moment's hesitation, although remembering to slow down to reasonable pace. She spotted a bowl with some sort of noodles inside and cup of what could be tea on a tray in front of him.

Kanda was sitting very still and completely failed to notice her approach, which unnerved the girl a bit. She opened her mouth to call him, but bit her tongue just in time and instead looked over the table to examine the black-haired man's expression.

His eyes were closed and he was quite evidently dozing.

Lenalee stared at him for a while, mind hurriedly turning various options, and then carefully seated herself opposite from Kanda, who didn't as much a stir. If she'd already found him here, against all odds, she might as well sit in his quiet company. It seemed better than sitting alone, in any case.

She might as well watch him a little.

The boy's cheek rested on one of his hands, which in turn supported itself with an elbow on the table. His head was slightly tilted, and several longer strands of his fringe found their way to his left eye, obscuring it from view. The two longest strands slid gently along the sides of his face and marked themselves black against the white fabric of his shirt; it was the first time Lenalee had ever seen them motionless.

Speaking of which, it was also the first time she'd ever seen Kanda without his black coat and gloves. And, for that matter, the first time she'd had a chance to look at him properly at all, neither in a hurried embarrassment nor in a darkened air meddled with heavy rain and shadowed by an umbrella.

She felt excitement rushing up her veins. Watching someone asleep – wasn't there a scene like that in a book..? There was that girl, and that boy who accidentally found her dozing over some notes – he fell in love with her, and later they were together for some time… anyway, that character definitely had a sense of romanticism…

Encouraged by the literary example of positive effects brought about by such practices, and feeling only a little bit like a stalker, Lenalee peered closer at the boy's calm features. They were regular, if somewhat sharp, and had a detectably foreign look to them. His face was rather pale, contrasting with the dark eyebrows and tresses, although, of course, not as much as his shirt, and not enough for the result to seem unhealthy or creepy; on the contrary, just about enough for it to appear interesting. Well, not only that, if she were to be honest with herself, and just now there wasn't any reason not to be honest with herself; in short, she couldn't help but notice that the overall effect made the man good-looking. _Really_ good-looking, she thought, which perhaps at least partly accounted for how he wouldn't leave her mind ever since that first meeting.

It would be too much to say he appeared peaceful in his sleep, with a foreshadow of frown lurking about his eyebrows and minute twitches of his only visible eyelid, yet he definitely did radiate the impression of being cut off from the bothersome outside world and, on the whole, content with it, which detail was distinctly indicated by the subtle twist of his (accordingly) pale lips. His breathing was even; and when Lenalee leaned over the table, she detected a faint scent of something bitter, distantly reminiscent of walnuts.

The girl felt her mouth curve in a smile. Only yesterday he'd been a mysterious stranger, and now she was indulging herself in observing him like that. And she was indeed surprised at how much she liked the picture – she had a notion of being quite ready to sit like that with him for any amount of time, and he didn't even have to wake up, although she wouldn't object to seeing his eyes now – or to talking to him, she amended, grinning none the less.

But as she watched the indication slowly deepened into a frown carving itself on Kanda's face and Lenalee back away swiftly in sudden shame, afraid she'd disturbed his sleep. It was too late either way, as the boy stirred slightly in place and lifted his head, absent-mindedly rubbing his cheek and blinking drowsily.

And then he saw her. And for a moment he looked as if he saw a ghost.

"Um," said Lenalee. "Hello," she added, a bit more diplomatically, however nonplussed at the expression of evident shock which only reluctantly left Kanda's features. "Are you okay? I mean," she corrected quickly, "I mean, how are you?"

He muttered something she didn't quite catch, rubbing his temple in the meantime.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up, I just, I was here, waiting for my friend, and I saw you and thought I'd come and say hi, but you were asleep -"

"Yeah, hello, I see, that's fine," he grumbled.

"Did I wake you?" she persisted.

Kanda shrugged, subjecting her to a kind of suspiciously analytical glare which made her feel really uneasy and also highly puzzled. She was beginning to think that approaching him this time wasn't perhaps going to prove as rewarding as the previous day.

She looked around in case Miranda had returned, but she hadn't.

"Er. Do you study here?" she risked.

The boy opened his mouth, shut it, and nodded shortly, casting quick sideways glances.

"Hey, is something-" began Lenalee, but was interrupted when someone stood over the table.

The two looked up at the newcomer. It was a woman. She regarded the girl briefly and addressed Kanda, whose features tensed visibly.

"Mr. Kanda, I need you to come to the laboratory," she informed him. "Of course," she added with a smile which was supposedly meant to express understanding, "only after you part with the young lady here. Just don't take all day, will you?" Flashing another smile, she left without waiting for the boy's answer.

Abashed, Lenalee turned back to Kanda and once again was astonished at the change on his face, which now held an air of deep, utter relief despite his best efforts to shake it off, as she could tell.

That woman had said 'Mr. Kanda', she thought. So it was his surname after all.

"I didn't expect you here," he said, and the girl wasn't sure if she should interpret his words as an explanation, apology, accusation or a simple statement.

She smiled anyway. It wasn't hard, she began to realise, to smile at him.

"I didn't expect you here either, you know."

Kanda looked down at the bowl, picked up the chopsticks and delved in the contents.

"Um. Am I bothering you… very much?" asked Lenalee carefully.

"No."

The girl relaxed a little, although she _had_ expected something more of him.

"Um," she said, feeling there was one more matter urging to be raised.

"What?" the man spared her a glance from under an upraised eyebrow before lifting a cup and scrutinizing it.

"I swear I'm not stalking you. Really. I know how it may look like, but I'm honestly-"

"Che," Kanda cut her off, "I never thought that. Stop explaining."

"Really?" it was Lenalee's turn to be relieved.

"Yeah."

He hadn't thought that. Good. She herself might have suspected something of the kind if someone had kept turning up in front of her unexpectedly all the time, so she needed to make this point clear. Because, however she looked at it, it was strange. Improbable. Unparalleled.

And potentially meaningful. Not to say romantic.

Oh, crap.

"I was thinking," said Lenalee, "what would you like to see?"

"See?" Kanda frowned, at first failing to understand what she was alluding to.

"Yup, around here… oh." Lenalee trailed off, catching a sight of a rather surprised Miranda staring at her from the table they had originally occupied. "I must go," she informed her companion, meanwhile standing up, "but do think about it and call me or text me later, will you? Bye!"

The girl turned on her heel and rushed to where her friend was waiting, greeting her with a sheepish grin.

"Did you wait long? Sorry," she apologized as they walked out of the cafeteria.

"Who were you talking to?" Miranda demanded, rushing to keep up with Lenalee, who seemed to have suddenly remembered she was in a hurry.

"Didn't you see?"

"All right," the curly-haired girl sighed, "who is he and how do you know him?"

"Do _you_ know him?" Lenalee inquired, slowing down.

"I've seen him around," the older girl shrugged. "Surely you don't expect I know him personally?"

"No," Lenalee admitted. She knew well enough her friend was not the kind of person to befriend everyone dining in the same cafeteria as herself within two weeks. Or ever, for that matter. Hardly her own class, in fact. "I asked just in case."

"So who is he?"

"Just someone I met," said Lenalee evasively.

"Someone you met?"

"Yes."

"Why are you so mysterious?" Mused Miranda and, as her friend blushed and remained silent, continued "when did you meet him? How long have you known him?"

"I don't really know him," Lenalee admitted, "I've met him twice so far. Three times, counting today. Last time yesterday. I keep running into him, it seems."

"Yesterday, well." The smile on Miranda's face was far too knowing as for Lenalee's tastes. "Have you been to a fortune-teller lately?"

"Nno… why?"

"But naturally because you've just had the most stereotypical prophecy fulfilled for you! Isn't it classic? 'You will meet a tall, dark stranger'," the brown-eyed girl declaimed, shrugging. "If you tell this to every girl, it must work for some of them, according to the laws of probability. Looks like it worked for you."

"May as well be," said Lenalee, a shade uncertainly. "Prophecy or not, fact is I met him."

"Does he have a name?" ventured Miranda.

"I suppose he does."

"Well?" asked the older girl after a while.

Her friend looked defiantly sideways.

"He only told me his surname."

"Oh."

"Kanda," Lenalee added.

"I see. Well, don't worry about it."

"Mhm."

"Yes, and now," Miranda smiled, "we were supposed to be _shopping_."

Lenalee nodded distractedly, which did ring a bell for the brown-haired girl, but she said nothing and just pulled her friend towards the store.

Kanda glared at the cell phone.

It lay there quite innocently, but Kanda felt something was expected of him, and that feeling alone was driving him into a mood inimical towards means of communication.

Well, at least _finally_ he could be certain. From this point of view contacting the girl and actually meeting her appeared way more tolerable. True, seeing her in front of him right after he'd woken up _had_ unsettled Kanda, reminding him of how, up to that moment, he'd only met her when he'd been alone, and he had been all drenched anyways, so there was no way to tell; and after the nightmare he was prepared to face things way stranger than a violet-eyed girl across the table. But subsequent events left no doubt in the matter.

Lenalee Lee was perfectly real.

This came as a huge relief he initially hadn't managed to conceal. In fact Kanda had been too relieved even to consider why the hell she'd been, as it appeared, watching him sleep.

And then she'd gone on talking and excusing herself again, and ended up leaving before he could reply to her request.

Now he was supposed to call her, text her or something. It felt somewhat awkward. Not what he was used to. Normally he only talked on the phone with all those annoying idiots who insisted on fussing over him and various, they called it, _issues_, and the similar. Not to –

On the other hand, who cared? Get over with it. That was it.

Kanda grabbed the device, glared at the kitten for a change, and quickly composed a message.

_'It can be anything you pick. You said you know this place.'_

After while the cell phone beeped.

'_Sure, you're right ^^'_, 'wrote Lenalee, '_When?'_

He thought about it.

'_Thursday? About 3pm.'_ That was still three days away, and an easy day to that.

'_OK. Do you know where the square is? With fountains?'_

Kanda expected he did. '_Yeah.'_

'_See you, then :)'_ was the last message he didn't bother answering.

The dark-eyed man cast another glare at the tiny beast which was currently attempting to hunt his side bangs. Very well. But now he was going to fetch some tea.

* * *

><p>I just had to do it. I had a wallpaper to look at while writing this…<p>

Chapter 8 will feature – guess what? – yes! the meeting, with some talk about sightseeing, sweets, and smiling.


	8. Sightseeing & Smiling

Lenalee was nervous. Extremely nervous, if she was to be precise, but the exact degree of her nervousness was not what occupied her attention just at the moment; there were more current issues it had to take care of.

She remembered being so happy about the turn of the conversation which had revealed Kanda as a newcomer to the town and provided her with this oh so brilliant excuse to propose a meeting. She'd considered it a special intervention of her lucky star, or would have if she believed in lucky stars, but that was beside the point. Because right now she was quickly approaching the conclusion that any other pretext would be better than volunteering as a tourist guide. Her ideas about what was actually worth seeing around the place and how she was supposed to play the role were rather foggy, which didn't add her self-confidence.

But if Lenalee had to worry, and in all honesty she was pretty certain there was no way of avoiding it, she worked hard to worry about this and only this. Worrying about technicalities which had a chance to work themselves out in the process seemed a lesser evil compared to worrying about matters such as would Kanda like spending time with her, what if he thought she was a moron, what was he expecting of her, what were they going to talk about, what exactly made her arrange all this, hadn't she confused the hour (constant checking did little to reassure her), did she look alright, would he come at all, wouldn't he say he had only twenty minutes or something, had she told him the right place, is there any limit to things she might have done and still can do wrong, and so on. The list was long and, despite her efforts, expending; the girl suspected its final length would depend solely on the amount of time she'd have spent waiting.

Which would be quite a while, since she'd come too early in fear of coming late.

Naturally there was, apart from the tight grip of nerves, also excitement. It was to be their first non-accidental, fore-planned meeting. It was not, of course, a date or anything, yet in a curious manner it felt the closest to a date Lenalee ever got.

She looked around, as she'd been doing in close intervals for the last fifteen or so minutes, trying not be to conspicuous about awaiting someone and at the same time excuse the fact that a girl was standing all alone leaning against a bill-post at the town square. Her eyes met those of an elderly flower-seller, who gave her a knowing and encouraging smile. Lenalee blushed and quickly looked away, wondering who else would start giving her knowing smiles, and whether knowing smiles would soon become a part of her everyday life.

She gazed sideways and saw Kanda stepping right next to her.

Surprise made her step slightly back.

"Hello," he said.

"H-hi," replied Lenalee, recovering. "Um. Nice to see you."

They stared at each other. The girl tried to think of something to say, while another part of her was still waiting for him to say he was glad to see her too, and somewhere at the back of her mind knowing smiles of the previous several days flashed, well, knowingly.

Kanda raised an eyebrow, and Lenalee felt a sudden wave of reassurance upon this familiar sight. It might have been, she reflected, that she's been anticipating this all along, for some unfathomable reason. She smiled.

It was always important to start. Things should go on somehow if she just started.

"So, this is a square," she informed her companion brightly. "In fact, this is the main square of this town. If you turn over there," Lenalee tugged Kanda's sleeve and pulled him a little left, "you will see a fountain. You are in fact very lucky, because it'll be turned off any time now. Pay attention to the flowery ornaments. Generally, this place is used for the purpose of marketing by the local people, which you can observe if you care to look around. Examples of local cuisine can be found here and there, for example o, there. It is common among inhabitants of this town to come here and feed birds, especially with little children and in the seasons of late autumn and winter…"

The girl trailed off, fighting to suppress a chuckle at the look Kanda was giving her. But she gave up pretty soon.

"You don't have to do that, you know," he said in a bewildered tone of voice, watching her laugh.

"Well then, what should I do? Hmm?" Lenalee grinned, relieved she could question Kanda in this subject. "How else do you imagine one is being shown around?"

"_Shown_, not talked," the black-haired man retorted.

"Then what did you think we'd be doing?" the girl insisted.

Kanda made an imprecise movement with his hand.

"Walking?" he hazarded.

"That, yes, of course, and?"

"Talking?"

"That's what I was doing," she pointed out.

"Not like that talking."

"You mean to say talking normally," the girl offered.

"Mhm."

"Suits me _perfectly_," declared Lenalee with another wide beam. "Shall we have a walk through the square, then? I really liked that fountain, by the way. Come," she added, once again making use of his sleeve in a rather unceremonious manner.

"Liked?" muttered Kanda, following her but ensuring to remove any piece of his clothing from her fingers.

"When I was a kid. I used to come here and feed birds with my brother, too. More precisely, he used to bring me here and I fed them, he mainly looked." She shrugged. "As I said, it's children's attraction. But it's fun when you are one of those children."

Kanda didn't comment.

"Do you have siblings?" she asked, hoping to maintain such a promising conversation.

"No."

"Would you like to?" Lenalee bravely dragged on, but all he did was shrug.

Fine, next subject.

"And, there were all those delicious doughnuts we'd eat later," she announced dreamily. "Also, we collected chestnuts and acorns…"

"Whatever for?"

This surprised her.

"I thought everyone used to do it." Well, Kanda clearly hadn't, judging from his expression. "You collect them to built tiny figurines. Tiny people, animals and stuff. You use toothpicks or matchsticks to connect them. Sometimes also plasticine for details."

"Hm."

"We even did that at school once. At least it was a better idea than making a collage of dry leaves, especially that when the teacher remembered we should do it, all the dry leaves were already fallen, trodden on, wet and half-rotten. It wasn't the most beautiful collage in my life."

Lenalee looked at Kanda, trying not to appear expectant, but he didn't react.

"Anyway, it's quite common to collect chestnuts around here," she concluded. "Would you like to try?" she added on second thoughts, glancing at him playfully.

"Don't think so."

"We're too old, aren't we?" Lenalee agreed seriously.

"Mhm."

"How about doughnuts?"

"I hate sweets."

"Really?" this time her eyes opened widely and traveled to the man's face on their own accord. "You don't like sweets? _Any_ sweets?"

"Yeah," he said defiantly, "can't stand them."

"Wow. I never thought I'd actually meet someone who hates sweets. But I know lots of people who'd be jealous."

"Hm."

"I should probably say I'd like to dislike sweets too, and that my love for them keeps ruining my diet, but you know what? I'm not on a diet, nor going to be, and I'm perfectly happy with liking sweets."

"I'm _not_ on a _diet_," said the man curtly.

"Oh. I never said you were. Hate sweets if you like. It's just… uncommon."

Kanda shrugged.

"I don't think you _need_ a diet, either," the girl pointed out quickly, regarding his figure outlined by the tight black coat. He was rather thin. "If anything, the opposite. I mean, a diet in which you eat more. Um." Lenalee stopped, feeling herself blush in rapid bite of embarrassment. "I mean to say you are very slim," she clarified eventually, facing the other way and thinking how the heck it had happened she had given Kanda her opinion on his _body shape_, and _at this point of acquaintance_ to that.

They walked in silence for a while. To Lenalee's surprise, it was her companion who broke it.

"Same to you," he said in an indifferent tone which suggested that another shrug accompanied the words.

The girl was suddenly very happy to have averted her eyes, as even more heat flooded her cheeks at his remark. That probably meant he'd been looking at her figure too. Well, apparently she'd been asking for that.

"W-well," she managed, "thank you."

It took Lenalee some time to muster the confidence to turn back to Kanda.

"But still, it's a pity," she said finally, "I was thinking I'd let you try my homemade cookies."

"Mhm."

"I think it might be a good idea to turn here."

It was slowly turning out that talking to Kanda wouldn't be much of a problem after all. As it appeared, the important part was not to expect enthusiastic reactions and elaborate replies; when one achieved that, it was possible to fully appreciate his mumbled signs of attention and nearly snapped answers. On the whole, if she thought of it, it was rather amusing, but currently she was simply happy about it all. The only worry there was whether he had similar reflections.

"Kanda?"

"What?"

"Say, am I boring you?"

"No."

Lenalee offered him a bright smile.

The meeting ended up getting even closer to a date than she'd originally thought, because after a long walk around the centre of the town they somehow found themselves in a café, where Kanda ordered a cup of green tea and Lenalee, unable to resist, a cup of hot chocolate, which the man subjected to a disdainful glare. As the girl giggled at that, he looked up at her and studied her face instead, taking in her cheery features until they became clouded with flushed uneasiness.

She took a sip from her cup.

"It _is _good, you know," she said, in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. "Want to try?"

"No."

Of course, Lenalee had every intention of paying for her drink, but it didn't quite work. It may have worked if she hadn't gone to the toilet. When she came back, she found Kanda perfectly ready to leave the place, and to her quiet joy he dismissed her objections about the bill with an impatient snap.

At the end of the day she had only one concern left. Yet it was a crucial concern and she decided to resolve it before parting.

"Um… Kanda?"

The long-haired man eyed her questioningly.

"You've had a bad time with me, haven't you?"

He frowned. "Why?"

"Because," she explained meekly, "you haven't smiled even once."

Kanda appeared to consider this.

"…Don't worry about it," he answered after a while.

"Don't worry about you not enjoying your time with me?"

"I never said _that_," Kanda grunted, "don't worry about the smiling thing."

"…Oh. So you're saying you did have fun time? Because _I'm_ happy to have met you today, and it was lovely, I think, and I hope we can-"

"Yeah," he cut in.

"Y-yes. Right. Anyway. Er." Lenalee paused and pondered on what it could be she actually wanted to say. "Thank you."

The man nodded at her.

Still, as they said goodbyes and departed in their respective directions, the thought lingered in her head that she would really, really love to see Kanda smile. And that it would be truly wonderful if it were she who actually managed to cause it to happen.

* * *

><p>O-kaaay, so it goes~<p>

Chapter 9 will feature a number of situations in which our dear characters get to know each other.


	9. Moments & Thoughts

In the days to come they would meet quite a lot, and to his surprise which he carefully hid from the girl under a permanent scowl Kanda let Lenalee drag him all around the town and chatter almost all the time about her childhood, that brother of hers, some friends, her school elsewhere, her likes and dislikes and generally everything she felt like chattering about. She appeared perfectly content with the fact that he was listening to her and didn't demand that he repay her with as much as one tenth of her eloquence, although she would ask him something every once in a while. In the meantime Kanda would often find himself studying her face as she talked, observing the expressions passing through her features, her plum-coloured eyes, her thick black hair which cloaked her head and hung loosely just above her shoulders, and most of all the smiles blooming on her lips; and whenever she caught his stare on her she'd quickly look away, leaving him a new shade of pink fluster to contemplate.

As a result of all that Kanda unresistingly followed Lenalee where she decided they should go. Even though the issue of 'showing him around' went largely unmentioned after the first time, the girl had apparently made a point of honor to take him to places as varied as possible in the small and fairly monotonous town and would lead him along constantly new however identically looking little streets. A scrap more diversity was introduced by the cafes they would invariably end up in, where Lenalee soon began to laugh at him invariably drinking only green tea.

And her laughter he invariably looked forward to, much to his disconcert. And the annoying monotony of the town seemed to matter much less, because most of Kanda's attention was occupied by Lenalee anyway. Of course, not that she'd know about it; in fact, the girl kept doubting he even listened to her, let alone listened with interest, which brought about the effect of him starting to be fed up with endless denying he was bored and only met her out of civility.

As if Kanda would ever be bothered by civility. But Lenalee didn't know that. And although it quite definitely wasn't civility, the man himself wasn't sure about the reason why he was hanging about with this girl. Usually the matter didn't seem urgent enough to actually ponder on, yet it lingered at the back of his mind in the vain of an irritating itch disturbing the mild sooth of her company. When he did put it under consideration, he started to suspect that what made her presence so relaxing, not to say uplifting, was her apparently unconditional will to spend time with him. For the best of his knowledge Lenalee had known absolutely nothing about him when their paths had first crossed, and hadn't learnt much ever since. Even though she had admitted to 'wanting to get to know him,' her method of achieving this was mainly behavioral. She never asked invasive questions, limiting herself to polite inquiries in the course of conversation and always respecting his reluctance to speak; she also didn't seem repelled by his fairly brisk manners which tended to effectively discourage most people – not that he cared, of course.

In short, Lenalee asked only for Kanda's company, and whatever he had to offer in terms of that company she welcomed with a gracious smile.

He found he liked how easy it was to make the girl smile.

Besides, he had to acknowledge that however fond Lenalee was of those indistinguishable streets, it was hard to speak of routine in those meetings. (Maybe apart from the cafés, but she used the words 'habit' and 'tradition'.)

Once she crept to him from behind and covered his eyes with her hands.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, unmoving.

"You're supposed to guess who it is," she reproached him, her voice coming from close vicinity of his ear.

Like he wouldn't know. Like there was anyone else who would do that.

"Lenalee Lee, who wants me to call her Lenalee," he answered briskly. The hands retreated.

"Well done," said Lenalee, grinning as he turned to face her, "Kanda, who for the lack of further notice probably wants me to call him Kanda."

"Memory test?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow. If she'd meant this as a provocation, he wasn't about to comply. He _did_ prefer her to call him Kanda.

"Just a small one," she nodded seriously, "though I guess you have my name in your phone, so it's help remembering."

"You thought I forgot your name?" he bridled.

"You never use it," she complained, pouting.

"Che. Don't be an idiot," snapped Kanda.

"But it's true. There's a reason why I have a name, you know."

"Fine," Kanda decided that he could comply with, "Lenalee."

"Thank you," she smiled, "and now, _please_ stop scowling like that, or I'll start regretting this, and I really don't want to. Please?"

Before Kanda could react, the girl lifted her index finder and tapped him on the mouth.

He thought the action rather awkward, and it must have shown on his face, for as soon as they made eye contact again he found his impression mirrored in her face and she swiftly withdrew the hand, looking away.

"Um," she said, "I'm-"

"Che," the man muttered, "let's _go_." He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the street, snorting impatiently, while Lenalee hurried to keep up with his long steps. After a moment's hesitation her fingers encircled his tightly, as if in fear he would let go; and so they walked in silence; only later he noticed the girl was beaming somewhat more brightly than usually.

Another time she happily announced that she had some gifts to buy for someone, he forgot who, and casually requested that Kanda go with her shopping. He agreed, a bit naively assuming she would just go and buy the present, so it didn't really matter. Naturally, it turned out the man had been deadly wrong, as Lenalee declared the need to visit too many places to keep count of before she could make up her mind. The items that attracted her attention she subjected to careful analysis, and, perhaps to demonstrate she remembered about Kanda's presence, every once in a while demanded his opinion. When he invariably insisted he had none, the girl looked vaguely disappointed and proceeded to view other stuff. Very soon Kanda ceased to follow her every step, compromising to lean against the wall near the entrance and watch her browse through the shop.

It was a long afternoon. But as any other afternoon, it eventually brought them to a coffee shop, where Kanda was in for a surprise.

"This is for you," said Lenalee, pushing a small pack across the table. "I took it when I knew you weren't looking," she added as he slowly reached for the bag, "which by the way was most of the time. Today you can't deny you were bored," she concluded with a mix of guilt and satisfaction in her voice.

"I won't," Kanda consented. He turned the gift in his hands.

This he hadn't expected; he wasn't used to accepting presents other than from the old man or, occasionally, some caretakers who were trying to be friendly (and the geezer would all too readily blurt the date of Kanda's so-called birthday), like Bak Chan, but who would count them. Most of them gave up pretty soon anyway, their enthusiasm lost as he was less and less of a child and no less intolerant of them.

Now, with Lenalee it was very different. With Lenalee everything was very different.

"You came with me even though it was boring for you, and…" the girl began marking loops on the tabletop with her finger, "and you never let me pay for anything… and I thought it would suit you, so…"

"Thanks," he muttered, still fiddling with the packet and briefly wondering why the hell it suddenly seemed to matter. It made him feel ever so uneasy.

"Don't thank me before you open it. Are you even going to?"

"Mhm." The paper tore between Kanda's hands to reveal a small circle of dark red beads. He raised a doubtful brow at what could only be a bracelet and looked back at Lenalee.

"W-well," she said, now visibly nervous, "you don't have to wear it if you don't like it, I'll understand, really. It's just that I thought-"

_Oh no, not that again._

"Che," he cut in, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist and lifting the hand to view the effect. "It's fine," he commented shortly, but this appeared enough for Lenalee, who treated him to a shy smile and said that in her opinion it looked really nice.

To the girl's endless contentment Kanda continued to wear the bracelet, at the very least – because her knowledge ended there – when they met. But that was enough, and sometimes Lenalee thought that if she discovered he wore it only when they met, she would be glad none the less, as that would mean he cared for her feelings. Of course, him wearing it all the time wouldn't necessarily imply he didn't, and in turn would show her gift was up to his liking. In the end, either was all right.

This was a reassuring circumstance.

Lately, there'd been lot of reassuring circumstances, many of which held some connection to Kanda.

It was all so lovely. She'd got her dreamt-of walks along emptying alleys inundated in subsiding rays of early-setting autumn sun, with dry leaves rustling above their heads and under their feet. Maybe the sun _did_ hide behind the clouds a bit too often, leaving the place rather grayish, and the alleys _were_ a little too gloomy at times, and the leaves _could_ be a scrap less moist sometimes, and the walks _did_ lack a certain something compared to midnight walks with stargazing she'd used to imagine; yet that was not, as it was turning out, the important thing. The important thing was to have Kanda by her side.

Anyways, all the worst obstacles would disappear if she just patiently waited for warmer seasons, and meanwhile she would try and exhaust the fall's romantic potential to the fullest.

And then there was the issue of her heartbeat. Lenalee remembered thinking about how her heartbeat should act in romantic situations, and hence considered herself somewhat prepared. Still, soon she found the patterns of fluttering, skipping, ticking, momentarily slowing in solemn beats and hurrying again as if out of fear of being left behind which were claiming her heart every once in a while evaded not only description but also prediction, rapidly taking over her in both expected and most unexpected moments, tainting her cheeks with the all too frequent blushes. It was slightly embarrassing, especially the blushes and accompanying stutter, but on the whole felt good; the one problem Lenalee saw was that, in perfect honesty, there had hardly been a truly romantic situation. That was, _she_ felt romanticism in all those lazy walks and now-traditional visits to coffee shops, yet she also knew herself to be hypersensitive in this respect and suspected it wouldn't occur to _him_ just how she perceived their meetings. And when he held her hand, it surely was accidental (and he was wearing gloves anyway, he was always wearing gloves).

Sometimes she wondered what exactly was going on with her – were all those sensations due to the excitement of having her dreams come true, was it all self-induced, or was it really out of affection towards the long-haired man?

But presently Lenalee wanted to go to the park. She had purposefully saved the place for when she got to know Kanda, if only a bit, and now she wanted to go there.

"It'd be nice to go to the park," she remarked, knowing better than to hope for anything more than a shrugged agreement from her companion. His thrifty approach to words had long stopped bothering her; his apparently indifferent behaviour was gradually stopping; it was that expression of irritation invading his features alarmingly often, altering from inconspicuous wince to straightforward scowl, that still troubled her whenever she thought of it. His protestations that it was in no way her fault and she was not to worry were a relief, of course, but not a complete relief.

Lenalee wanted Kanda to smile.

At the moment, though, she limited herself to strolling towards the park, hands rubbing busily against one another in the cold. Kanda walked next to her; today, she noticed, he had his hair tied on the nape of the neck, opposed to the usual high ponytail. It was the second time Lenalee saw him like that.

She blew on her hands to warm them up.

"Put these on."

The girl looked at Kanda, and then down at his hand, currently pushing a pair of black gloves into her own clutched hands.

"Oh," she said brightly, and decided that despite everything, she'd rather avoid the rushed skip and wave of heat this time. She took the gloves, and then remembered to protest.

"Nno… but you'll be cold, won't you?"

"I'll be fine. Put them on."

"O-okay…" Lenalee slid one hand into the glove, which was too large, but brought the relief of warmth to her cold skin (and it was warm because _he_ had worn it!), and hesitated.

"What again?" asked Kanda impatiently.

"If I wear your gloves," she said, glancing up at him, "you have to hold my hand."

"…Nice logic you have," he commented after a while. He shrugged, but his eyes darted sideways. "Fine. Put them on."

Lenalee did, only too happy to let Kanda take care of her, and held out a hand expectantly; the man took it carefully, finding her fingers in the loose cover of black leather and closing his own around them, which gesture she enthusiastically returned. Despite the dark flush blooming on her cheeks she forced herself not to look away and instead was trying to tell whether Kanda's face really did turn a shade pinker, or was it maybe just her imagination.

So, she did it again. In all honesty the girl had no idea what came over her when sometimes she shamelessly spoke her mind and demanded things of him only to lapse into embarrassment and disbelief at her actions seconds later. Like with the smiling, or the scowling, and using her name, and now this. And the strangest part of this was that it hadn't done any harm yet, by the looks of it; on the contrary, it won her a few precious moments.

She had to admit that she liked it when Kanda said her name. He did, not constantly, but still did. She wished she could do the same; unfortunately, he hadn't disclosed his name so far.

"It was sunny today," observed Lenalee matter-of-factly. She waited until she heard his murmured agreement and continued, "it's not been so sunny in a while. We might be able to see the sunset in the park, it's rather pretty." Sunsets, she thought, were romantic.

The sunset was romantic. Well, maybe there were a bit too many trees nearer the end, but before that the sunlight poured in shimmering icing over the little pond, and she could lean over the balustrade to trace the shapes and forms of tiny wavelets sliding on the surface if the water, among the last still-living greenness. Without letting go of Kanda's hand, of course. She even allowed herself to draw a scrap closer to him, using a gust of chilly wind as an implicit excuse, and realised that she was so happy she felt like laughing.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she sighed instead.

"Mhm."

"Do you know what you should say now," she blurted, failing to bit her tongue in time, "if it was a novel? Or movie?"

"What?" he asked indifferently.

"That it's not as beautiful as me," she explained and quickly grinned at the man to show it was a joke. Unnecessarily, as he wasn't looking at her; he was glaring at the water with attention which surprised her, given that the area he watched was not very interesting – there were no weeds there and the surface was now still.

"Stupid," he grumbled, never raising his eyes, "why would I bother saying obvious things?"

"Well, even if it's clichéd, a girl just likes to hear – e-eh?" Lenalee paused when the actual sense of Kanda's words reached her, and for a moment stayed speechless, heart fluttering madly.

"…Y-you don't h-have to, I meant…" she stopped, unsure what to say. She hadn't meant anything in particular; it was just something she'd felt like mentioning. "…Do you mean it?" she finally asked in a quiet voice, fighting the bashfulness away.

"I mean what I say," snapped Kanda, frowning at she had no idea what in the innocent pond.

The girl smiled at his profile, moving a little closer again and squeezing his hand thankfully. It was all truly lovely. Only she couldn't help wondering what else and to what extent could be obvious for Kanda.

* * *

><p>A bit of a longer chapter for you to enjoy, and now there's someone who seriously needs to get down to plotting and writing~ Everyone, thank you for your support :)<p>

Chapter 10 will feature a little introduction to a confrontation between our character's acquaintances.


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